Coming to a Time
by Maaya
Summary: Sometimes it's just hard to find the right moment in a relationship. LeorioxKurapica


Leorio/Kurapica, PG  
Sometimes it is just hard to find the right point of a relationship.

**Coming to a Time  
by Maaya**

**------- **

_(Attempt)_

Kurapica doesn't like feeling exposed. Hates the feeling, actually, both the physical and mental way of being _open_. Perhaps the latter a tiny bit more but the earlier much more violently, both for his own sake and for others--like Leorio had found out pretty early due to the hotel room incident that Leorio still mutters sourly about on occasion.

But when Leorio doesn't wince in remembrance of the fist against his cheek, he teases Kurapica about his--_not_ self-consciousness like Leorio says, mind--_modesty_. Pretty often, even. To the point that Kurapica darkly wonders if Leorio isn't trying to _imply_ something.

Because it sure feels that way when the man is tugging at his clothes with feverish heat, under his breath muttering useless, mindless nonsense that is probably meant to fill the silence more than anything. For the first time, Kurapica can admit that Leorio is being tactful that way, even if he lacks the quality concerning all other activities at the moment. A total silence would have been awkward, would have rested heavily against their eardrums and the feeling of being exposed would have been intolerable, had it been left with only the sounds of their breaths.

Kurapica is staring straight ahead, is breathing carefully and trying hard not to _hit_ something because the only "something" around would be Leorio and no matter how tempting the thought is, it doesn't seem like a good idea. _Isn't _at all a good idea.

Finally Kurapica closes his eyes and allows the frown to take over. Not because of Leorio or because of himself; it's the situation which is at fault. There is an uncomfortable feeling; Kurapica doesn't like it because if he is opened up and looked at once, the eyes can follow him anywhere.

"Leorio," he says with a sigh, wondering what had caused this situation at all. He pushes Leorio's prying hands away carefully but with underlying steely resolution. (And is much prepared to clench his hands and hit, would it be necessary. Because Leorio can handle it, would probably not feel much pain, with that thick head of his.) "Leorio. Stop."

The hands falter, the left moving away from his hair, leaving it dishevelled and every strand somewhat out of place, the right leaving the front of Kurapica's shirt. Both are warm and Kurapica_ feels_ and _sees_ that the hands are disappointed, annoyed, perhaps even angry. Not blaming—Leorio isn't that type of person and Kurapica knows that if he had been, he'd punch Leorio for being stupid and tell him to get over it.

But wrong.

Kurapica straightens his clothes, shakes his head to make his hair fall like it _should_. Brushing his fingers through the strands to massage his scalp helps to take the feeling of an unfamiliar hand away and then Kurapica steps into his shoes and puts his hand on the doorknob.

He walks out of their hotel room to get some air, and leave some for his roommate.

_(Afterwards)_

Breakfast might have been an uncomfortable affair if Gon and Killua hadn't been present. The café is pretty much empty this time of the morning; it is too late for people to eat breakfast but at the same time too early for the first brunch-eaters to arrive. Without Gon there to babble about a strange dream he'd had and Killua to argue with his friend, Kurapica is sure that the silence between him and Leorio would have been worse than heavy.

As it is, Kurapica has finished a cup of tea and a few sandwiches in enjoyable not-peace and is settled with his book. Leorio is sitting on his left side, chewing on something--a toothpick--brows furrowed together in thought. Kurapica glances at him once of twice before their eyes meet and there's a short moment of awkwardness.

Then, lacking anything else to do and feeling annoyed with Leorio for making_ Kurapica_ feel silly, Kurapica tilts his head to the left. He shrugs. It's a good gesture, shows exactly what he is feeling at the moment.

Leorio's eyebrows rises, the toothpick falling out of his mouth. Their eyes are caught in each others' and then Leorio _sighs_ loudly and his elbows, resting on the table, slides forward until he is lying over the table rather than sitting by it. It is a defeated pose but Kurapica sees underlying humour. Perhaps.

He smiles and returns to his book, letting Gon and Killua discuss what they could do in South Estria today.

_(A Start)_

Kurapica has made himself comfortable on the thin hotel-room couch, is engrossed in a book and appears to actually manage to block out and ignore the way Leorio rages loudly in front of the mirror. The man is swearing, muttering under his breath the usual nonsense words that Kurapica has since long deemed as stupidity coming from a stupid man.

"_Aaargh_!"

Kurapica doesn't blink when a comb is chucked his way; merely sinks back into the pillows to avoid being hit. The comb flies over his head and hits the window with an angry clatter.

Common sense tells Kurapica to just continue reading and ignore this happening, but his brow has already started twitching and he needs an outlet for his irritation. He looks up.

Leorio is glaring at himself in the mirror, hair on end. He rather looks like a savage, both expression and hair wild, and it is not really pleasant to look at.

"Leorio," Kurapica says, closing his book. "Give up. We'll be late."

"Shut up!" Snarling, Leorio proceeds to brush his fingers through his un-yielding hair. It only serves to make things worse. "I don't know what's wrong with it! I woke up and it looked like _this_!"

Kurapica raises an eyebrow. "Like what?" he wonders thoughtfully. "I don't see anything strange."

He has to duck as yet another hair-care product is hurled his way.

When he looks up, Leorio is standing before him, expression changed slightly into something...not entirely pleasant. Kurapica sinks back into the pillows even further to put some distance between him and the man as he observes this uncomfortable turn of events.

"You're not totally unconcerned about your looks, either, pretty boy." Leorio is smirking now. Bad sign. "Saw you fret over your hair this very morning."

"I di--" Kurapica tries to protest but suddenly Leorio's hand shoots out to _ruffle_ Kurapica's hair the way one might ruffle a big dog's fur, only more violent and _darn_ it, Kurapica can feel static electricity already.

He kicks Leorio's shin, but not even the pain can make the man stop laughing.

And Kurapica finds that it is hard to look rightfully, modestly offended when one's hair is fiercely trying to reach the ceiling.

_(Continuation)_

"There's a water boiler in this room," Leorio points out. "Want to stay here tonight?"

Kurapica glances out the window as he considers it. It must be later than he had thought; it's dark enough to create a visible contrast with the street lights. Gon and Killua are most probably asleep already and Kurapica must admit, he really doesn't feel like going out tonight. He isn't very hungry either, could do with a cup of tea.

"Mmm." Kurapica nods to clarify the reply as positive.

He gets his tea—or rather, has to make it for himself because there is apparently no way Leorio will drink the stuff—and it's nice to settle down for the evening in the company of someone else.

_(Further)_

"What's_ this_?"

Whatever "this" is, Kurapica is certain it must be offending, if it brings out that special tone of Leorio's voice.

Raising an eyebrow, Kurapica leans over the table and turns his head as much as possible to get a closer look at the receipt Leorio has been studying for the last minute. The small, light grey text is moving in Leorio's trembling hands, he has to squint and it takes a few moments before he manages to decipher it.

"Ice cream," he reads aloud. "Chocolate." He shrugs. "Yes?"

"Twenty-two millions!" Leorio's hands are twitching, as if he considers strangling someone. "Those _brats_ bought ice cream for twenty-two millions, using _my_ card!"

"They're still children. It's your own fault, if you lent them the card." Kurapica replies flippantly and sits back to study his own expenses for the last few days. His eye gets caught in something in particular. There is a pause.

"Leorio." Kurapica's eyebrow twitches. "You used my card to buy after-shave."

Leorio has suddenly found his nails to be very interesting and he studies them, rather than replying.

_(Goal?)_

"Godforsaken, damn annoying, bad--"

The words are directed to the weather more than anything, the rain and the cold.

Kurapica listens with half an ear to the complaints that continues to pour out of Leorio's dirty mouth even as they enter the hotel room, saved from the worst of the downpour at least.

Well into a warm and dry place, Kurapica notes that he isn't as wet as he had first thought. Around his cuffs, a little on his back and around his neck but it's not enough to drip and he wouldn't call it soaked. Uncomfortable and cold, though. Not at all pleasant.

Still. Because Leorio is complaining about it, Kurapica refuses to acknowledge it as a big problem.

"Take your clothes off, Leorio. You'll catch a cold." Kurapica says to interrupt and is already buttoning up his coat, shrugging out of it. He stops with the garment still wrapped in his arms as Leorio's ranting suddenly falters, room falling quiet. He looks up.

The way Leorio is looking at him makes Kurapica wonder if he has grown a tail, or another head. He stares back. "What?"

Tearing his gaze away, Leorio tilts his head to the side and rubs his neck. He sounds...almost pleased when he replies. "Nah. Nothing."

Kurapica smiles slightly.

**end**


End file.
